


A Perfect Fit

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: AU - Alternate Careers, First Kiss, Get Together, M/M, and human labrador, the best wingman, with special appearance by mike dodds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Sonny Carisi, respected tailor, gets the chance to dress his favorite author, Rafael Barba.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 114
Collections: April 2020 Barisi Bingo





	A Perfect Fit

Mike comes bounding into the backroom where Sonny's pinning pleats on the back of a suit jacket. His broad grin tells Sonny he's up to something before Mike says a word. "What?" he asks through the pins in his mouth. 

Mike's grin is absolutely enormous. "New customer," he says. "You should take him."

Sonny gives him a look as he adds another pin to the pleat, missing his fingers from long practice. "What? I took that new recommendation from Mr. Finch. It's your turn."

"Nope. He's all yours. I insist. I don't even need two back as a thank you."

Sonny takes the rest of the pins out of his mouth and drops them onto the round, magnetic pincushion next to the mannequin. He gives Mike another look. They always split new customers down the middle if there wasn't a reason one of their particular skills would be a better match. "What are you up to, Mike?"

"Not a thing," Mike replies, then laughs and steps around Sonny to shove him towards the door. "Don't forget your waistcoat."

Sonny shakes his head as he grabs his waistcoat from the velvet hanger he'd put it on to do his pinning. He buttons it as he walks to the front of the shop. Standing at the counter and lazily perusing a book of fabric samples is Rafael Barba, New York Times Bestselling author of legal thrillers and Sonny's hopeless crush since the first time he read one of his books and saw his author's photo. 

Rafael Barba. Holy. Shit.

"You must be Mr. Carisi," Rafael Barba says, looking up to meet Sonny's gaze. He's wearing a pair of round, tortoise shell glasses, and they compliment the green of his eyes perfectly. 

"Yes," Sonny says, slipping into his professional role easily. "But feel free to call me Sonny."

Rafael Barba gives him a quick once-over. "And that's a nickname for..."

Sonny grins. "Dominick."

"I can see why you go with Sonny."

Sonny cocks his head, certain he's reading the slightly teasing smile on Rafael Barba's face correctly. "Yeah, I've heard that line before."

"I'm sure you have." Rafael Barba turns the fabric swatch book so Sonny can see it and points to a lavender patch of tie silk. "I assume you do pocket squares as well as ties."

"We're a full-service tailor shop with a special flair for accessories," Sonny says. "I could even make you complementing suspenders."

Rafael Barba glances down at himself. He's wearing a dark blue polo shirt and linen slacks. "Do I look like a suspenders sort of man?"

"Well, you wear them in your author's photo," Sonny says. He shrugs when Rafael Barba sighs. "I'm sure you're shocked to meet a fan. You've only had twenty best sellers."

"Twenty-one, soon, I hope," Rafael Barba says. "Though, it's not a legal thriller, so who knows."

" _Catalina's Children_ , a literary novel heavily influenced by your childhood in the Bronx," Sonny says, then immediately presses his lips together in embarrassment. "Um. Sorry if that was creepy."

Rafael Barba looks amused. "You sell it better than some of the people who've interviewed me," he says. 

Sonny feels his cheeks get warm with a blush and fights the urge to duck his head. "Well, like I said, I'm a fan." He reaches under the counter and pulls out a clipboard with a standard order form on it. "But, now, let me make you a fan of me. Let's talk about what you need."

Rafael Barba nods in agreement and allows Sonny to show him over to a facing set of leather chairs while accepting the offer of a glass of champagne. "Most tailor shops go for wine or beer or whiskey," Rafael Barba says as Sonny pops the cork and pours him a glass. 

"Most tailor shops lean a bit too hard into expected masculinity if you ask me," Sonny says. "The only reason I have the leather chairs is in honor of my grandfather. It was a big day for him when he could buy his first set for his shop."

"Is he the Dominick you were named after?" Rafael Barba shrugs when Sonny gives him a questioning look. "I've written twenty legal thrillers. I can make a leap in logic. If you're Sonny, someone else is Dominick."

Sonny grins. "Well, you're not wrong. My dad's Domnick. Grandpa's Carlo."

"First generation?"

"Of course." Sonny places the champagne bottle in the ice bucket and takes his seat across from Rafael Barba. "He came to New York City with ten cents in his pocket and hope in his eyes."

"Oh, that old story."

Sonny smiles as Rafael Barba sips his champagne. "I'm sure you heard it plenty growing up."

"I'm surprised my _Abueltia_ didn't record it to play it back on her record player."

"Small mercies," Sonny says. He leans back and takes a good look at Rafael Barba. Broad shoulders, thick biceps. Wide thighs. He's proportaniate in his weight and height and clearly knows how to dress himself to flatter his shape. "Tell me, Mr. Barba--"

"If you're Sonny, I'm Rafael," he says. 

"Okay, Rafael," Sonny corrects smoothly, though he's certain he looks like an absolute goon at being allowed. Mike's going to give him shit for days about his fanboying after this. No doubt he's watching the whole thing on the closed circuit in the back room. "Tell me why you're here today. Is it just to pick out some ties and pocket squares, or are you looking to add a few more pieces to your wardrobe?"

"I'm looking for an overhaul, actually," Rafael says. "When I started needing to look the part of a successful writer, I went to a tailor who dresses lawyers. He was willing to play around with some patterns and fabrics, but I'm hoping my latest book will let me shift out of thrillers and into other genres in general."

"Don't tell me you're out of ideas for Lieutenant Benson and her ragtag squad of detectives," Sonny says. 

Rafael smiles to himself. "Not quite. I'm currently at the beginning of a new, five-book deal. I got my publisher to agree to let me try out something literary in return for promising four more of my usual. If _Catalina's Children_ does well, there's an opening to negotiate exactly when those four come out as I work on other projects."

"That's exciting," Sonny says, "I can see why you'd be looking for a wardrobe change."

"I'm tired of white shirts and power ties and black suspenders," Rafael says. "My tailor isn't. He likes his bread and butter exactly as he's made it every day for forty years. I did some research and your name came up a lot."

Sonny sits up a bit straighter, unashamed in the pride he feels. "Grandpa taught me how to sew. Dad taught me color theory. I brought my own feelings about menswear to my own shop. It can be much more than white shirts and power ties."

"If you could dress me in anything for my first, post-release interview, what would I be wearing?" Rafael asks.

Sonny just manages not to say, 'My sheets.' Instead, he stands and walks to the wall where bolts of fabric are stacked neatly on the shelves. He ignores the plain blacks and grays completely, briefly considers a tan, then spots the exact right thing two shelves down. "Here," he says, pulling the summer weight wool from its rack. He carries it over and spreads it across the small table between the chairs. "Brown pinstripe can be difficult, but you've got red undertones in your skin and green eyes."

"Brown's not quite as colorful as I was imaging," Rafael says, though he does rub the fabric between his fingers. 

"This is your first interview for a new book in a new genre. We use the brown to assure the readers less likely to hop to literary fiction that you're still the Rafael Barba who wrote them twenty books about Olivia Benson winning against rapists and kidnappers." 

"I'm listening," Rafael says. 

Sonny turns on his heel and walks to a long, shallow drawer. He opens it and plucks up a brown tie with red, gold, and blue stripes. He lays it over the fabric, then steps to another drawer, pulling out a pocket square in the same gold as the stripe on the tie. He sits back in his chair and leans forward, holding the pocket square out for Rafael to take. "We keep the cut classic and put you in a white shirt just to keep the comfort level where we want it, but we mix it up with a waistcoat."

Rafael gives him a disbelieving look. "A waistcoat? I'm not a rail. It adds too much bulk."

"That definitely sounds like something a tailor who dresses lawyers would say," Sonny replies. He feels gratified when Rafael snorts. "A waistcoat will give a hint of academic authority--a stereotype, I know, but it's true--and believe me, the way I can cut a waistcoat? All it'll do is show people you know how to wear one."

Rafael looks at the fabric and the tie and the pocket square, then up at Sonny. "Belt or suspenders?" he asks.

"Dealer's choice. We can match your socks to your tie, then your suspenders to your socks."

Rafael leans back and finishes off his champagne. "Okay," he says. "Show me what you've got."

"Sonny stands up, pulling his tape measure from his pocket. "If you'll step over to the mirror, I can take your measurements."

*

Over the next few weeks, Rafael is in and out of the shop pretty often. He comes back for the first fitting and stares at himself for a long moment after he buttons the waistcoat. "Okay, you've convinced me," he says. 

Sonny laughs and helps him into the jacket. 

He comes in to choose more fabrics and discuss different cuts. He brings in photos of suits he sees in the department store windows and asks Sonny how he'd make them better. They each tell a few stories about their families and talk a bit of law.

"You do not have a law degree," Rafael says one afternoon as Sonny prepares to show him the latest sample book he just got in. There are some florals that Sonny is certain will fit Rafael to perfection.

"Fordham Law night school," Sonny says. "Focus on small business law."

"Are you bar certified?"

"Yeah. I do some pro-bono work for people in the neighborhood to keep my hand in. Saw a lot of people get railroaded out of business when I was a kid because they didn't know the ins and outs of the system when they got pushed."

"Amazing," Rafael says. 

Sonny shrugs. "You went to Harvard. You actually worked as an attorney."

"That doesn't mean I can't be impressed," Rafael replies. 

When Sonny meets his eyes, Rafael's gaze is warm. "Thanks," Sonny says. "Most people think I'm just an overachiever."

"Well," Rafael says, waving his hand loosely to take in the shop. He doesn't have to add anything else to make Sonny laugh. "But it's a good look on you."

Sonny smiles and lets himself enjoy looking at Rafael for a moment. "Nice to hear."

*

Three days before _Catalina's Children_ comes out, Rafael comes by the shop with a package under one arm and asks Sonny out for a drink. "Consider it a minimal thank you for all your work," he says. 

"Didn't know thank yous included wearing perfectly pressed slacks," Mike says from next to Sonny behind the counter. 

"I bought them from you two," Rafael replies, amused. 

"Oh, really?" Mike asks in the tone that tells Sonny he's about to be a real asshole in that super nice way he has. "Because whenever you've come in and I've been at the counter, you've _always_ asked for Sonny. Even if it was just a pick up."

Sonny looks at Rafael. "What?"

Rafael looks annoyed but not embarrassed. "Are you always like this?" he asks Mike.

"You'd know if you'd ever talked to me to say more than, 'I'd like Sonny to help me, thank you.'"

"Well, depending how things go in a few minutes, I guess we'll see."

Sonny blinks a couple of times when Rafael looks at him again. "Um," he says. 

"I've got things covered here," Mike says, patting Sonny on the back. "Enjoy your drink."

The way he says 'drink,' Sonny knows he means 'date,' and from the brief flash of worry that cuts across Rafael's face before he masks it, Sonny realizes that Rafael is actually thinking date, too. 

"I will," Sonny says, beaming at Rafael. Rafael looks momentarily shocked, but then he's smiling in return. 

"Just text if you need me to open tomorrow," Mike says. 

"Not subtle," Sonny replies as he walks around the counter. 

"Am I ever trying to be?" Mike calls after them as Sonny holds the door so Rafael can exit first.

"I like him," Rafael says as they walk side-by-side down the street. "He's like a labrador in human form."

Sonny snickers. "You will not be surprised to hear he's heard that a lot."

"No, but I will be very happy to say it to his face the next time I'm in."

Sonny hums in agreement and follows Rafael into a small bar just around the corner. They sit at the bar, and Sonny gestures for Rafael to order when Rafael holds up his menu with a questioning look. 

"How do you feel about Scotch?" Rafael asks. 

"I don't really have feelings about it," Sonny says. 

"Well, let's see if we can change your mind." Rafael orders them the same thing, but Sonny doesn't recognize the name. He looks at Rafael in surprise when Rafael places the package he's been carrying on the bar top and slides it over to him. "Open it."

Sonny picks up the package and opens the box flaps. In the box, on a small pile of tissue paper, is a hardcover copy of _Catalina's Children_. The cover shows a loose sketch of the Bronx skyline with an art deco Mariposa laid diagonally across it. "Wow," Sonny says, touching the cover. He opens the cover to read the blurb and stops short when he realizes Rafael's not only signed the book but written a note. 

_Thank you for your wardrobe help and your excitement about this book. You'd be surprised how many fans haven't been invested, or maybe you wouldn't. For as open and kind as you are, you aren't a fool. I've enjoyed getting to know you as we've worked together to figure out what I look like as the author of a literary novel. Some of my best hours in the past few weeks have been spent sitting across from you and simply talking_

_All the best._

Sonny looks up at Rafael. "That's quite the inscription."

"Well, I'm a famous author," Rafael replies. 

Sonny smiles and places the book back into the box, making certain to close the box securely before he sets it on his far side. He leans into Rafael's space and touches the collar of Rafael's shirt. "I'm not much of a writer, so I'll be blunt: You want me to kiss you right now, right?"

"Yes, please," Rafael says. 

Sonny does so, cupping Rafael's cheek as he tilts his head and brings their lips together. When he pulls away a moment later, he's gratified that Rafael chases after him to steal another kiss. "Been a pretty good few weeks for me, too," he says once they've parted. 

"Glad to hear it," Rafael replies. The bartender drops off their Scotch, and Rafael lifts his for a toast. "To taking chances, in work and in life."

"I like the sound of that," Sonny says. He taps his glass against Rafael's, then sips the Scotch. It's sharp on his tongue, but it mellows almost instantly into something smoother, almost buttery. 

Sonny is delighted to find it tastes even better when Rafael kisses it off his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank to M for a great beta!


End file.
